


Like Brothers

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thank you.” Pale eyes immediately look down at him, open and curious. “For… you know.” Scott waves a hand over himself. </p><p>Derek half shrugs, patting Scott’s chest. “You don’t have to thank me.” Scott ready to sit up and argue about it when Derek continues in a softer tone, as though he’s lost in some memory. “There’s no sorry’s or thank you’s between family.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write some Derek and Scott hurt/comfort/bonding cause shhhhh I need it okay

As he watches Derek prepare the poultice, Scott curls up a little more into himself while sitting on the broken front porch steps of the Hale house. He extends half a ear into the forest, wary for any sound that could imply that the hunters have followed them all the way to the house. But thankfully, he hears nothing but the skitter of night animals moving around.   
  


There’s barely a creak in the old floorboards when Derek sits down next to Scott. Scott notes that for someone so big, the man is surprisingly soft footed. "Lift your shirt up." Derek’s quiet instructions make the teenager sigh and sit up straight, wincing slightly at the twinge of hurt that goes through him when he pulls the torn material off.

 

They both make a face when they get an eyeful of the bleeding gashes on Scott’s side. “Is that going to help?” Scott asks, nodding down at the strange smelling paste that Derek’s got on his fingers, capturing more of it out of the small bowl he's got in his lap.   
  


Derek nods, shoulder gently nudging Scott back so that his stomach is taut. Scott tenses as Derek’s fingers come closer to his wound, ready for the paste to sting, burn and/or generally cause pain. He sucks in a quick breath when yep, that hurts! “Hold still!” Derek warns, pressing his arm against Scott’s chest to keep him from squirming. “The quicker I get this on, the faster you’ll heal.”  
  


Scott can’t help but choke on a sudden laugh. “Easy for you to say.” He groans at the hot flashes of pain spiking through him. It’s a hard task to keep himself from throwing Derek off and jumping into the nearest body of water just to stop this burning sensation that’s crawling under his skin.  
  


He’s not sure how long it takes but it feels like a lifetime later when Derek pulls away. “That should be enough. Try not to do anything too strenuous today or else it might slow the healing down.” That works for Scott - all he’s got planned for today is to crash in bed, sleep off this tiredness that’s creeping up on him and if he wakes up before the next am, he’s going to Skype Stiles and see if they can play some CoD.  
  


Despite the fact that Derek’s apparently done with his werewolf first aid, Scott still feels like he’s got a high fever. “Is it…” He tries to swallow, hoping to wet his dry mouth and throat but to no avail. “I feel like I’ve got a fever.”  
  


Derek’s hand immediately presses against his forehead, rough but cool and gentle. Scott sighs and closes his eyes, wondering if it’s normal to feel so fuzzy headed. Could it be that Kali had used some kind of poison on him during their fight? “S’ not poison is it?” Scott asks heavily, blinking sluggishly up at Derek’s concerned face. Is his head in Derek’s lap? When'd that happen? And was that a rock digging into his back or just a broken piece of wood? Scott’s feeling _seriously_ woozy now.  
  


Huh, Derek’s hands feel really nice when they’re petting his hair. A lot nicer than his Mom’s (who ruffles too hard) or Stiles (who does it just to annoy him) and definitely not as nice as Allison’s. But still, nice. It’s like he’s used to doing this for someone else and knows just how much force to put into every drag. “It just means that you got hurt a lot worse than we thought.” Derek replies quietly.  
  


Derek’s jawline looks wicked sharp from this new position. Scott wonders if it’s possible to get paper cuts or something from them and he laughs slightly to himself at the thought of people trying to touch Derek’s face and getting cut. Derek looks down at him, raises a bland eyebrow before going back to staring at the dark forest. As his giggles subside, Scott blinks hard a few times and realizes that the burning sensation has turned into an odd tingling sensation.   
  


It spreads all the way to his fingertips, making him raise a hand and press his index finger against his thumb with a puzzled look on his face. “Weird.” He mumbles to no one, continuing to press his fingers together before looking up at Derek. The older man looks relaxed and tense at the same time. “You should lighten up.” Scott says, maybe a little too loudly but he wants to make sure that Derek hears him.  
  


That earns him another look that’s all eyebrows and Scott wants to reach up and poke the dark brows cause it’s weird that someone can be that expressive with just their eyebrows. But on the other hand, maybe it’s good that Derek can talk with his eyebrows cause he’s terrible with words. “Your eyebrows are good talkers.” Scott mumbles, trying to reach up to touch them but he winds up grabbing thin air.  
  


Derek’s expression does a complicated shift before he catches Scott’s waving hand and pressing it down against his side. “Thanks.” Maybe it’s the fever talking but Derek sounds a bit amused? Does that mean he’s actually got a sense of humor buried somewhere underneath all that angst?  _'World of angst.'_  He hears Stiles’ voice correct him inside his head.   
  


"I miss Stiles." Scott states miserably. Between the Alpha pack and the Darach, they haven’t had a lot of chance to just hang out. It’s always one problem or another, always supernatural at it’s core. He wants to go back to the good old days when his biggest problem was cramming for a test that was 3 chapters too long or trying to beat Stiles’ high score at Mario Kart.   
  


Derek doesn’t say anything, just goes back to petting Scott’s hair. If Stiles was here right now, he’d totally be making some kind of dog joke. And he’d grin like a little shit, ignoring how everyone would glare him because no one finds those jokes funny, especially not Isa-  
  


The thought of the other teenager makes Scott jack knife up, “Isaac! Ow!” Scott cries out in pain, arms curling over his healing wounds while Derek’s hands immediately drag him back down. “Derek! Where’s Isaac? They didn’t get him did they?”  
  


It’s odd how the feeling of Derek’s hand splayed over his rapidly beating heart is actually soothing. “Boyd and him got out before us. They’re probably back at the loft by now.” That was good. Great even. Scott closes his eyes and focuses on the steady tattoo of Derek’s heart, willing himself to calm down. No one’s died, they’re all alright and he’s healing. It’s all good.  
  


When his heart goes back to it’s regular ‘thu-thump’, Scott peers up at Derek. “Thank you.” Pale eyes immediately look down at him, open and curious. “For… you know.” Scott waves a hand over himself.   
  


Derek half shrugs, patting Scott’s chest. “You don’t have to thank me.” That’s a little rude isn’t it? To turn down someone’s thanks? Scott ready to sit up and argue about it when Derek continues in a softer tone, as though he’s lost in some memory. “There’s no sorry’s or thank you’s between family.”  
  


It’s like being hit between the eyes with a brick. An adamantium brick. Scott stares up at Derek, completely taken aback by the implications. “We’re… Really?” He finally manages to ask in a hushed whisper. It’s one thing to be aware of the fact that they’re sort of like family considering the fact that Peter bit him but completely another to actually  _hear_ it coming from Derek himself.  
  


The older werewolf rolls his shoulders self consciously, not meeting Scott’s eyes. It almost makes Scott want to laugh because this is the Derek he’s used too. The one who just doesn’t seem to like to communicate.  
  


"I think you should always say thank you or sorry when you got to. Family or not." Scott breaks the silence, not wanting this strange awkward feeling to carry on between them. "Seems kinda rude."  
  


With an amused huff, Derek grumbles, “That’s what I used to say to Laura.”  
  


Scott takes his time to sit up and Derek lets him this time. He keeps one hand behind Scott’s back, bracing him until they’re seated side by side on the porch. They both look at Scott’s torso, glance at each other before looking away. Scott isn’t sure what Derek’s been doing in the summer past but it’s clear that something’s have changed. Maybe he’s finally had the chance to grieve? To settle down into his life? Who knows. All he knows is that, compared to the Derek he had first met, he kind of likes this one better. Not by a lot mind you but still…  
  


"I wish I could have met her." Scott muses quietly. He’s got the sneaky feeling that maybe he did meet Laura Hale once when he was a kid. He remembers his Mom instructing a dark haired girl that the emergency numbers were on the fridge and that there was lasagna in the oven for dinner and ‘I’ll try being back home before 10. Be good for Ms. Hale, okay Scott?’  
  


The quiet longing in Derek’s voice when he speaks makes Scott’s stomach twist in pain. “Me too.” It’s instinctive to throw his arm around the older man’s shoulders and give him a quick squeeze. A tiny show of comfort and a wordless ‘It’s okay’. Derek didn’t lean into the touch but Scott's happy for the fact that he didn’t shrug it off either.  
  


They remain like that for several long moments before Derek asks, “Still feeling like you’ve got a fever?” Scott takes a moment to consider the question before shaking his head. With a quick nod, Derek pushes himself up to his feet. “We’d better get back then. The other’s are probably worried about us.”  
  


Plucking up the tattered remains of his shirt, Scott stands up as well and begins to follow Derek.


End file.
